There's Always Tomorrow
by BellaDevil
Summary: CONTAINS SPOILERS! The end of the Second War marked the end of Voldemort, but when people are given a chance to Rebuild their lives how do they use it? WARNING: contains sex scenes. postDH GWHP HGRW GWKB... Chapter 3: Inspector Weasley
1. The Aftermath

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am just a very depressed writer of fanfiction.**

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_The aftermath was horrible. So many lives lost. So many tears shed._

**There's Always Tomorrow**

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**Chapter 1 – the aftermath**

_I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house  
That don't bother me  
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out  
I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while  
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me  
There are days every now and again I pretend I'm ok  
But that's not what gets me_

For me, life has ended. The loss of my brother is like the loss of my soul. There is a hole in my heart, a hole that will never be filled.

I had seen Percy chase Augustus Rookwood down the long, ancient corridor of Hogwarts, tears sparkling on my brother's cheeks, and I knew there was something wrong.

Percy never cried. He rarely cried as an infant, instead he would lie in his crib until mum checked on him. Percy didn't cry when he hurt himself, he would simply pick himself up again and continue whatever he was doing. The only time I had ever seen Percy cry was when Ginny lay in the Chamber of Secrets, close to death. We had all cried then.

That was how I knew something was wrong.

I ran and ran. I ran in the opposite direction from Percy, stopping only when I came to a pair of legs.

"No," I had gasped. My fear had been confirmed. There, sitting in a gap in the wall, eyes glazed over, face stark white, was Fred.

I can't remember the rest of that evening clearly. I know that I had absentmindedly carried my ice cold twin to the Great Hall, tears streaming silently down my identical cheeks. I remember that once I had reached the magnificent room Ginny had rushed over to me and burst into tears at the sight of her older brother. I'm pretty sure that I had spent hours sitting and stroking Fred's pumpkin coloured hair, while mum rested on his still chest and Ginny sobbed quietly. And then mum and Ginny, and Dad and Percy and Charlie and Bill and Ron and every other person who had watched me sob at my brother's lifeless body left, but I stayed, I didn't leave Fred. I can remember someone – it might have been Percy, or it might have been Bill – picked me up and carried me away while I screamed my brother, my best friend's name over and over again.

I couldn't sleep that night. I spent the time wrapped in Fred's sheets, on Fred's bed, in Fred's room. I flipped through photo album upon photo album, tears staining the pictures. And then, when I had gone through every possible album, I cried. I lay on Fred's empty bed and sobbed and cried. I called out my brother's name again and again, but there was no reply. I refused to believe that Fred was gone.

The next days didn't improve. I moved back into the Burrow, I couldn't stand to be in my apartment, Fred's apartment. I lashed out. Mum and Dad constantly asked if I needed anything and my frustration built up and up. Three days after Fred's death my frustration was so high that I snapped, I shouted at mum when she had asked me what I wanted for lunch – I hadn't eaten since that infamous night.

"Don't take it personally," I had heard Bill tell mum. After I shouted at mum I ran out of the room and waited at the door, I heard her sobbing. "Don't take it personally, mum," Bill repeated. "George is going through a hard time at the moment. Fred was more then just a brother to George; they were best friends, soul mates. George just lost his identical twin. Just give him some time." And I thanked Bill for that.

No one understood me. I spent my days cooped up in my cramped room, sitting on my bed and leaning against the wall, staring at Fred's bed and reminiscing. Reminiscing about the jokes we pulled on people and the good times we had shared for the twenty years he lived. Twenty years.

Harry helped. He came around to the Burrow two days after the Battle of Hogwarts. He sat on my bed and apologised as if he blamed himself for my twin's death.

"It wasn't your fault," I assured him, teary eyed. "You didn't do anything."

"I was there, though," Harry had admitted. "I was with Percy and him, I could have saved him, if I had of looked. But Fred was laughing, laughing at something Percy had said," Harry's voice broke and I choked back tears. "And then, the next thing I knew he was gone." But Harry knew how I felt; he had lost so many people, and I told him this.

"I can empathize with you," Harry nodded, and he wiped a stray tear off his cheek. "But never, never have I lost someone that meant as much to me as Fred meant to you." And then he got up and left my room.

Harry came back every other day though. He came to comfort Ginny. I had gone to see Ginny one evening after Harry had left. She was a mess. Tear stains decorated her beautiful face, her hair was unclean and dull and the usual sparkle that occupied her brilliant brown eyes was missing. She was distraught, obviously. Fred and I had always been close to her, comforting her when she needed it. And when Ginny finally noticed me she sat up and I moved next to her and we clung to each other, crying until there were no tears left to cry.

Hermione lived in Ron's room. However, mum didn't mind, Ron needed Hermione as much as I needed Fred. And I had heard Ron in the room above me, sobbing loudly into his pillow. I cried too. I cried to myself every night until I choked, and coughed and wheezed and then dad would open the door of my room to check on me, I would pretend to be asleep.

Everything reminds me of Fred. Every tiny thing. I look in the mirror and there he is, there's Fred – minus one ear – staring back at me. I try and avoid him but I can't. I live in his room, his room that is overflowing with my memories of him. And I refuse to give up on him. I refuse to believe he is gone. Because Fred was my everything, and you don't know what you've g until it's gone.

So here I stand, in the orchard behind our house, the orchard that Fred and I, along with Bill, Charlie, Ron and sometimes Harry would play quidditch games in. I had offered the orchard to be made into a cemetery, a cemetery where the people who were lost in the battle would lie as a last resting place. Fred would have approved, and my brothers agreed.

Hundreds of people stand in the orchard today. There was only one funeral for the sixty or so people that had been lost. The funeral was long and as much as it pains me to say this and as disrespectful as it sounds, I have to admit it was tedious. In turn people would talk about who they had lost, it might have been a parent or a child, brother or a sister, or just a friend, sometimes one person would talk about more than one loss, and then it was my turn to talk.

"Fred," I started, my voice magnified so it spread through the whole orchard. "Fred was my twin, my identical twin, and we had a bond that you couldn't even imagine," no one spoke as I did, it was a sign of respect and I was grateful. "I'm not going to drag on about all the things Fred did, because those memories are too painful for me to recall. Fred was a friend above anything else. Whether you were his sister or one of his brothers –" at this I paused and looked down at my family who all had there heads bowed. My eyes lingered for a short time over Ginny who had her hand in Harry's, fingers laced together. "– or whether you had only known Fred for a few hours or a few minutes, he was always there for you." I continued. "Fred was there for me until the very end. I just want to tell you all that if you have anyone, anyone that you care about beyond everyone and everything else, don't take advantage of the time you spend with them, treasure every moment, because one moment might just be your last."

I stumbled down from the stand passing the next person, who was going to talk, but I stopped abruptly and spun around, I felt the eyes weighing down on me but I didn't care. I raised my wand in the air, called out as loud as I could "For Fred" and let fireworks explode from my wand tip.

So the truth is, while I was listening to people drone on about there loved ones I had a type of epiphany. Fred wouldn't have wanted me to grieve, he wouldn't have wanted me to lock myself in our room and sob into my pillow. He always wanted me to be happy.

"Don't dwell on the past," Fred had told me, soon after Sirius had died. We were sitting in our brand new apartment when dad's head had appeared in our fireplace. Dad had told us that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, along with two other friends, had flown to the Ministry and fought a bunch of Death Eaters, Ron and Ginny had been hospitalised but they were alright. And then dad told us about Sirius. "Don't dwell on the past, Georgie," Fred said, wrapping a comforting arm around me. "Don't dwell on the past, when the future is now and the present was just a moment ago." Fred had always been stronger than me, I was weakened at the news of Sirius, where as Fred looked on the bright side. "Well at least now he's with James again," Fred smiled. And he was right.

At the time I didn't understand Fred's words, how could you move on after such a loss? But Fred wouldn't have wanted me to waste my life away as I mourned for him. "Don't dwell on the past," I told myself, and I smiled. I looked to my right and grabbed Ginny's hand, pulling her away from Harry and then I looked to the left and took Ron's. I stood up, pushing my way through the people, dragging Ginny and Ron behind me, and as I moved along the row of chairs, Bill stood up, followed by Percy and then Charlie, just like I had hoped. They followed me until I stopped. I stopped at a gravestone, Fred's gravestone. In front of the now-blank gravestone was a large trench-like hole, the exact size of the glossy coffin that lay to the right of it. Coffin, I hate that word so much.

I stood in front of the gravestone just silent, for a moment, and then I pulled Ron and Ginny to my side and wrapped my arms over their shoulders, they did the same. Bill, Charlie and Percy came closer and joined our little Weasley line, and then I spoke.

"Weasley are strong," I called out loudly, the tear tracks on my cheeks shining in the sun. "We aren't going to mope; we're going to be proud and happy. That's what Fred would have wanted."

"Weasleys _are _strong," Ginny agreed, looking up at me, radiance shining in her brilliant brown eyes, as she gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

"We aren't going to wake up every morning and cry at the photo of Fred on our beside tables," Ron seemed to read my mind.

"We are going to be proud," Percy spoke. "Proud of what Fred has done."

"That's what Fred would have wanted."

"And we will come here once a year," Bill decided.

"And we _will_ cry."

"We will remember Fred and how we lost him too soon."

"But then we will go home, home to our families, and live our lives as normal," I continued, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. "That's what Fred would have wanted."

* * *

_I could stay awake just to hear you breathing  
Watch you smile while you are sleeping  
While you're far away and dreaming  
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender  
I could stay lost in this moment forever  
Well, every moment spent with you  
Is a moment I treasure _

_  
I don't wanna close my eyes  
I don't wanna fall asleep  
'Cause I'd miss you, baby  
And I don't wanna miss a thing  
'Cause even when I dream of you  
The sweetest dream would never do  
I'd still miss you, baby  
And I don't wanna miss a thing_

_Knock, Knock._

"Ginny?"

"Come in," the red-head mumbled, hastily stuffing a tear-stained photo album back under her pillow and pulling her messy hair into a loose bun.

"Hey," Harry said, moving inside Ginny's tiny room and sitting himself next to her on the bed.

"You came," Ginny smiled.

"Of course I did. I promised I would." He wrapped his arm around her; Ginny rested her head on Harry's chest. "I went and spoke to George the other day."

"You did?" Ginny said, sitting upright.

"Yeah."

"Did you _speak _to him?"

"Yes," Harry said slowly, he was extremely confused. Why was Ginny so interested in the fact he had spoken to her brother? "Why?"

"George doesn't speak to many people anymore." Ginny jumped of the bed, tears sparkling in her hazel eyes. "He came to my room the other night, but we didn't talk."

Ginny had been extremely distressed since Fred's death.

"I don't have a favourite brother," Ginny had tearfully assured Harry the previous day. "But the twins were always there for me, and now Fred –" Ginny didn't continue, she merely sobbed into Harry's comforting arms.

Harry got up off the bed and moved over to Ginny, wrapping his arms around her. "Have you spoken to anyone else?"

"Mum and Dad only," Ginny admitted. "Ron's stayed upstairs with Hermione, he hasn't come out, but I've seen her. I haven't spoken to her, though. Bill thinks it is best if he leaves us to cope with it in our own way. Percy has come in here, but we didn't talk." The Weasleys had all been avoiding each other, in a way. They each stayed secured in their rooms, on their own or with one friend.

"You know what," Harry said, looking down at Ginny and wiping a stray tear off her cheek with his thumb.

"What?"

"Let's go," Harry suggested.

"But the funeral's tomorrow."

"Only for one night." Harry smiled. "Come on." He gripped her hand and pulled her out of the room. Harry led her downstairs and out the back door. Ginny smiled at the feel of a fresh breeze whipping on her bare legs.

"Where are we going? Dad's shed?" Ginny snorted as Harry led her into the rusty shed. The shed was filled with bits of old muggle items. Mostly useless, but Arthur Weasley had always loved his junk.

Harry led Ginny to the corner of the room, where a monstrous motorbike stood in the shadows.

"Isn't that Hagrid's?" Ginny gasped, running her fingers over the muggle device.

"It was Sirius'. It's mine."

"Wow," Ginny smiled, still examining the machine. "Can we go on it?"

"That's the point," Harry laughed at her enthusiasm. "Locomoter bike." The bike rose a few inches of the ground and hovered. Harry led it out of the shed, Ginny following eagerly.

"Do you think Dad will mind that we are taking it?" Ginny asked as they came to a halt just outside the hut-like building.

"I came around the other day and found your dad working on it," Harry said, helping Ginny onto the back of the bike and then, himself, hopping on. "He told me he had finished with it and I could have it if I want. Hagrid has no use for it anymore." He handed Ginny one of the shiny black helmets that hung on the handlebars, and then took one for his own head.

Revving the engine, Harry was just about to start the motor-bike when Ginny asked, "Do you know how to ride this thing?"

"No," Harry laughed. "That's the fun."

"Hermione would have hated that," Ginny giggled as she hopped off the giant motorcycle. After a full hour of flight Harry had landed in a deserted park, about an hour's drive from London. Ginny lay down in the grass, resting her head on her arms. Harry, silently, lay down next to the red-head, wrapping his arms around her bare shoulders. He was cold, but she didn't even shiver.

Ginny rolled into Harry's chest and circled her fingers around it. For a moment the young couple lay there, in silence, but the silence was broken when Ginny spoke.

"Do you think he's up there? Fred?" She said, rolling off Harry's chest and gazing up into the stars.

"I dunno," Harry admitted. "I think he might be watching us, looking down on us. Laughing and joking with Remus and Tonks, and Sirius and my mother and father."

"You've lost so much," Ginny said in barely a whisper.

"Luna once told me that the people we love never really leave us, we'll see them again someday," Harry told her, shifting on to his side, head propped up on his hand, and watching Ginny. "Besides, I've gained so much as well."

Ginny moved back onto Harry's chest and Harry wrapped his arms around her. "I love you," Ginny whispered.

"I love _you_."

"Gin, wake up. Ginny?" Harry whispered in the sleeping red-head's ear the next morning.

Ginny rolled over, squinting her eyes open, and pushed her messy hair out of her face. She glanced around the room; the walls were an off-white colour, except for one feature wall which was painted a navy shade of blue. The room was rather large; a wardrobe was built into the wall opposite the large queen-sized bed that Ginny lay on. Perpendicular to the wardrobe was a sliding door, covered by two pale blue curtains, which opened onto a small balcony. Next to the door, fastened on the wall was a plain full length mirror. The room was decorated simply; a pale blue rug lay in the centre of the cream coloured carpet. A few pictures lay in frames, decorating the room and on Harry's bedside table was a photo of James and Lily, who was holding a tiny raven-haired baby.

"Where are we?" Ginny asked quietly, sitting up and hugging her knees into her chest.

"My apartment," Harry answered simply. "I bought it a couple of day ago, moved in the other day."

"Wow."

"It's not much," Harry assured, pulling on a pair of black dress pants. "It's only got a couple of rooms: one bedroom, one bathroom, one study, one kitchen dining room lounge room thing. But I figured it was better than the Dursleys'."

"Wow," Ginny repeated.

Harry smiled nervously. "You better get ready, the funerals in at eleven. I brought your dress over." Harry pointed to a pile of black clothes that were folded neatly at the end of the bed.

Ginny headed for the shower. As the hot water rushed down her naked body all of the sad thoughts and feelings from the past week seemed to wash away. All she thought about was Harry, and how much she needed him and how lucky she was to have him. The temperature of the water felt good on Ginny's unclean skin. It felt so good.

"Ron," Harry called to the red-head who was standing by a tree in the orchard. "How are you?" Harry asked, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. Ron was facing the hedge that surrounded the grassy area, one hand above his head latched onto a branch, the other hand clutching a broomstick. Ron glared into the hedge, as if he hadn't heard Harry, then he suddenly turned around and acknowledged that Harry was there.

"Hey Harry, long time no see," He gave Harry a small forced smile and clutched the broom tighter.

"How are you?" Harry repeated, surveying his friend, eyes full of concern.

"I'm fine," Ron lied, showing Harry another one of his prized fake smiles. Harry raised his eyebrows, obviously unconvinced; his eyes lingered over the old broomstick in Ron's hand. "It's Fred's," said Ron who had noticed Harry's interest in the object. "George thought that we should bury him with it." Ron turned back to the hedge, teary eyed. He shrugged and wiped his sore eyes. "At least he's home now."

After three hours of listening to people talk about their loved ones' achievements the crowd of witches and wizards rose, the chairs vanished and the people proceeded to move towards the graves. Harry stood to the side of the mourners, leaning against a tree and painfully watching the people move in a march-like manner, many people were crying, others were just staring into the blank space in front of them, it was an upsetting site.

"How's Ginny?" Hermione, who had been watching Harry, slipped her hand in his and asked about her friend, her voice quivering with worry.

"Haven't you seen her?" Harry asked quietly, turning to the brunette and nervously running his fingers through his hair.

"I went passed her room a couple of times, I hesitated but I didn't go in."

"How come?"

"I don't know how she was dealing with everything," Hermione said, brushing her overlong fringe out of her eyes. "Girls usually take deaths harder than guys and _Ron _was a mess. Have you seen him?"

"Just before," Harry nodded, wrapping his robes tighter around his body as a large gust of wind swept over the orchard.

"Where have you been staying?" Hermione asked in an attempt to change the subject to a more cheerful topic.

"I bought an apartment in London. I figured I needed my own house."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione asked, her voice filled with anger and excitement.

"I didn't think it was that important seeing the state of things." Hermione sunk to the ground, leaning against a tree, and buried her face in her hands. Harry moved next to her, hugging his knees into his chest.

"I've been comforting Ron all week I never realised that maybe I need comforting too," Hermione said, breaking the silence. "All of these memories of Fred have been running through my head, the moment I met the twins, when they followed us around in second year boasting that you were the Heir of Slytherin, when they grew identical beards during the Triwizard Tournament." Harry smiled slightly. "It was always "the Twins", now it's just George." Hermione wiped a tear off her cheek. "I guess I assumed that Ron needed me more than I needed him." Harry wrapped his arm around her but stayed silent. "Sometimes I think that we failed our task. I mean, so many people died. We didn't want that. But Harry, I'm not used to loss, I don't know how to cope with it." Hermione glanced out into the distance where hundreds of people stood, levitating coffins into trenches and then filling in the holes.

"I still can't cope with loss."

* * *

"Hello," the young red-head said as she approached Andromeda Tonks. Ginny had never met Andromeda; however the woman looked amazingly like the infamous Bellatrix; she was also standing at Tonks' grave. Ginny had spent the whole week grieving for Fred she hadn't even thought about her friend Tonks, the closest thing she had ever had to a sister. "I'm so sorry…" Ginny's voice faded off and Andromeda turned around to face the girl. Ginny's eyes flickered to a small bundle in Andromeda's arms. A large gust of wind swept over the orchard and the bundle squirmed. Two tiny arms stretched out of the sheets revealing a tiny baby with a tuft of emerald green hair.

Andromeda glanced down at Teddy and gave the baby a small smile. "I just wish Dora had of been able to see her baby grow up." Andromeda took a deep breath, still watching the child she continued. "When Nymphadora came and told Ted and I that she wanted to be an Auror I tried to advise her against it. I didn't want to lose my only daughter. And then, the other night she told me she wanted to go after Remus, I told her not to leave but she never listened to me." Andromeda ran a slender finger down Teddy's tiny cheek. She kneeled down in front of Tonks' coffin, but her eyes didn't move from the baby's face.

"If there is anything I can do to help," Ginny kneeled next to the older woman. "Harry is Teddy's godfather so if there is anyway we can help–"

"Don't take him away from me," Andromeda interrupted, clutching the infant to her chest and finally looking up. "He's all I have now."

"Of course we won't take him from you, but if you ever need anyone to take him to the Hogwarts Express or to a Quidditch game, we'll be here." Ginny stood and turned around to head back to where Fred's grave was situated, but she stopped when a voice from behind her uttered a sentence.

"I'm sorry about your brother," Andromeda said in a quiet voice.

"Don't be," Ginny told the woman. "Fred wouldn't want anyone to be sorry."

* * *

Luna Lovegood was standing at the orchard, staring up into the sky as rain poured from the sky like the tears on Ginny's cheeks. Luna's leaf-green dress was drenched in the fresh water and her long, cold hair seemed to stick to every inch of her body, the slight curve of her hips, her bare arms and the swell of her breasts. Luna was cold, but she didn't show it, she simply stared into the clouds, smiling.

"Luna? What are you doing out here?" Luna turned to see Neville approaching her. Neville was wearing a thick hooded trench coat over his dress robes. As he moved close to Luna she noticed that a large cut on his right cheek had been stitched up, the bruises from the past year at Hogwarts still shone proudly on his face. Neville had changed greatly over the past year, Luna noticed, he was no longer the chubby, easily scared child he had been when he had started the wizard school. Neville had shown leadership skills, he had proved that he was a Gryffindor, through and through. "Are you okay?" Neville asked again.

"Yes," Luna replied dreamily, she turned away from Neville and glanced into the sky once again.

"You should come inside," said Neville. "You could get sick."

"Do you think the clouds are more than just drops of rain that haven't fallen?" Luna asked, ignoring Neville. The boy shrugged. "I think that clouds are beautiful. People always think that when we die we will go to heaven and live on a fluffy cloud. Maybe the clouds are the dead people, looking down on us. Maybe that's why there are so many today."

Neville moved next to Luna and glanced up into the clouds with her for a moment. "We should be inside," Neville decided. "Mrs Weasley says you're more than welcome to go back the Burrow."

"No, I think I'll walk home. It's just past the river over there," Luna said pointing to a thin stream of water in the distance. "Besides, Daddy will be wondering where I am."

"Can I walk you home?" Neville asked politely.

"Oh no, that's okay."

"Then take this," Neville pulled his trench coat off and draped it over Luna's shoulders.

"Thankyou Neville, for everything this year." Luna smiled at Neville and turned around, leaving the boy glancing into the distance, watching as Luna faded into the mist.

_And I know you're shining down on me from heaven  
Like so many friends we've lost along the way  
And I know eventually we'll be together (Together)  
One sweet day (And all that I know is I'll wait patiently to see you in Heaven)_

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**Okay… So after ages I managed to get something uploaded… true I decided to dump my other story after reading Deathly Hallows because everything was just plain… wrong! And even though I dumped that story you can't keep me away from fanfic (even though Zoe is probably going to kill me), and so here is my new story complete with Deathly Hallows spoilers…**

**The songs were **_**What Hurts the Most**_** by **_**Rascal Flats**__**I Don't Want to Miss a Thing **_**by **_**Aero Smith**_** and **_**One Sweet Day**_** by **_**Mariah Carey **_**and**_** Boyz II Men**_

**If you read this chapter, please review, because this chapter I am actually happy with. I will update sometime soon… hopefully, however, I am drowning in homework, well not really, I just suffer from immense writers block at times :)**

**Anyway, happy reading,**

**BellaDevil**


	2. The Powerful Word: Love

**Disclaimer: ****I'm really too tired to think of an interesting disclaimer… I DON'T OWN IT, OKAY!!!**

**Okay, be warned before you read… this chapter contains a sex scene, of a kind… don't read it unless you really want to…**

**Also, the dates switch back and forth almost as often as the PoV's do… watch out for that… Thanks to razmataz13drums, WheatGerm14, InLoveWithHarry, RemusSiriusJames, Sonia, Bec and mimosa, for reviewing… Oh, and by the way, there are spoilers, but I assumed if anyone is reading Harry Potter fanfictions they have read DH.****

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**

**There's Always Tomorrow**

**By BellaDevil

* * *

**

**Chapter 2**** – the powerful word: LOVE**

_You know our love was meant to be  
The kind of love that lasts forever  
And I want you here with me  
From tonight until the end of time  
You should know everywhere I go  
You're always on my mind  
In my heart  
In my soul baby _

You're the meaning in my life  
You're the inspiration  
You bring feeling to my life  
You're the inspiration 

"_We should split up," Fred told his brother as they headed to the Entrance Hall. He had volunteered himself, and his brother, to guard the entrance ways into the castle. Fred knew that the two of them could identify every single entrance into Hogwarts, it was going to be easy._

_George nodded in agreement at his brother's suggestion. He turned to head for the staircase._

"_George," came Fred's always-cheerful voice. George swung around. "I love you," grinned the twin._

"_Oh, come on. Don't get all soppy on me," George smirked, but he walked up to his brother and pulled the young wizard into a one armed hug. "I love you too."_

"_I know," Fred said, pulling away from George, "I just wanted to make sure that you knew too." Fred patted his twin's shoulder._

"_I'll see you later," George said._

"_Yeah, and make sure you don't get that other ear blown off."_

_George laughed._

* * *

_22__nd__ June, 1998_

"What do you think?" Ginny asked happily, swirling around in front of Harry. She was wearing a pale blue, swishy dress. The dress came just above her knees and had a quite low neckline, showing off a small amount of cleavage. She was very happy with the dress that she had convinced Harry into buying the previous day.

Harry, however, was extremely nervous and not even the site of his beautiful girlfriend took his mind off the day's up-coming events.

It had been a month since the Battle and Harry's eighteenth birthday was creeping closer every day. With this birthday came even more responsibility. A week ago Harry had received a letter from the Ministry announcing that he was to receive an Order of Merlin, First Class, along with Ron (who was ecstatic and enjoyed boasting at every possible opportunity) and Hermione. Today was the day he was receiving the medal.

Ginny frowned as she noticed the anxious look on Harry's face. "What are you so nervous about?" She asked, moving over to button Harry's brand new shirt.

"Well," Harry started, and he thought for a moment longer before answering. "I guess I'm nervous about going back to the Ministry. The last time I was there it was horrible; I don't know how much it has changed." Ginny nodded and finished buttoning the shirt. "And, well, there is everyone," Harry continued. "The last time I was out in the public was at the Funeral, and no one was going to talk to me then."

Ginny nodded again, "So you're scared of the publicity, or are you scared of the fame? Harry, you shouldn't be so damn modest, you basically saved the whole Wizarding world, people have the right to thank you." Ginny paused, "And as for the Ministry, I'm sure lots of things have changed. I mean, Kingsley is Minister now, he's changing things around there, Umbridge has been sent to Azkaban, the muggle born wizards and witches have been released, and that horrible statue has been melted down and sold, and the money sent to St Mungo's."

Harry nodded in agreement and followed Ginny into the kitchen, he watched as she retrieved a box of muggle cereal and two glass bowls.

"I know it's not much," Ginny said as she poured the beige flakes into the bowls and then passed one to Harry. "But you have to eat."

"Thanks," Harry told her, taking the food and wrinkling his nose slightly at the unappealing site, before piling as much fruit as he could onto it in an attempt to disguise the cereal.

Ginny left Harry to eat his breakfast in silence, a silence which was interrupted when an exhausted Ron ran into the room. Ron's hair was tangled and messy, he wore his plain pyjama pants, and the scars from the Department of Mysteries still shone brightly on his bare torso. Ron's pale white face indicated that he had only just woken up.

"15 minutes," Harry told Ron, glancing at the clock nervously.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ron rebutted angrily, grabbing an apple from the kitchen bench and running off to the bathroom.

Ron and Hermione had been living in the spare room of Harry's apartment since the evening of the Funeral, and even though Harry hoped they would buy their own place or just move back to the Burrow he didn't tell them, after all, they had done so much for him over the years. Harry didn't know where he'd be without them.

"I _told_ him to get up," Harry looked up to see Ginny entering the room with Hermione. "I told him about a hundred times," Hermione was saying, "and now he's blaming me for being late, _me_!"

"That's Ron for you," Ginny said, sitting in the chair beside Harry. "So what's going on with you two anyway?"

Hermione sighed and began pacing the room, Harry's eyes followed the brunette, he kept silent. "I don't know," she eventually muttered, "I really don't know."

* * *

"Excuse me?" came the deep voice of Kinsley Shacklebolt, making Ron jump and the case, in which his medal lay, snap shut jamming his fingers inside. Ron resisted the urge to swear by shoving his throbbing fingers into his mouth. He spun around.

"Ron!" Hermione muttered, jabbing her elbow into his ribs. Ron felt his cheeks reddening as he pulled his slobbery fingers out of his mouth and hastily wiped them on his robes. Shacklebolt didn't seem to care.

He smiled to the four young adults. "Would you mind if I had a word with you three?"

"Not at all," Harry replied, out of the corner of his eye Ron could see Ginny turn to leave, but Shacklebolt stopped her.

"Oh, Miss Weasley, I don't mind if you stay." Ginny smiled and moved back towards Harry, sliding her hand into his. "We should, however, talk in a more private place." Shacklebolt lead them into a small room. The room was simple, the pale green wallpaper was peeling off the walls, the varnish that once covered the floorboards had worn off and cobwebs decorated the ceiling. One old oak desk stood in the centre of the room, one of the legs on the table was rotting which made the desk slope slightly; there were two moth-eaten velvet chairs on either side of the desk.

Kinsley sat down in the chair behind the desk and with one swish of his wand three more chairs appeared out of thin air. Ron took the furthest chair from the left, he laced his long fingers together and began twiddling his thumbs, a thing he usually did when he was nervous.

Shacklebolt cleared his throat and began. "As the three of you," he motioned to Harry, Hermione and Ron and continued. "Were unable to complete your final year at Hogwarts and never sat your NEWT level exams, we are forced to discuss your career options." Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Last year, all three of you demonstrated bravery –" (Ron resisted snorting as he thought of the night he walked out on Harry and Hermione) "– and loyalty to the Wizarding world. I would be extremely pleased to have the three of you working in our Auror department." Ron could just see the corner of Harry's mouth twitching slightly. "If you would like, we could immediately sign you up for the Auror training course starting this year –"

"Wouldn't we be disadvantaged?" Harry interrupted. "I mean, we missed a whole year of Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration and Charms and everything," he elaborated.

"Mr Potter, I don't think you understand how poorly the students at Hogwarts were educated last year, I hardly think you'll be less experienced than the students who were taught by Death Eaters." Harry opened his mouth to respond but closed it again and nodded in agreement, Kingsley smiled.

"So will you take me up on my offer?" he asked, lounging back in the moth-eaten chair in a sophisticated manner.

"Yes," Harry said eagerly, Kingsley chuckled and turned to Ron.

"Mr Weasley, you could be very valuable to the Auror department too," said Shacklebolt. "That is, if you want to become an Auror."

"Can I get back to you on that one?" Ron replied, smiling nervously, and he could just hear Hermione's exasperated gasp.

"Of course. But you'll have to let me know before the seventh of October." After he had said this Shacklebolt turned to Hermione, who, Ron noticed, went rather pink.

"I've heard about your other job offer," Kingsley said kindly. Ron's eyes widened and he glanced at Hermione, who was now examining her shoes closely. "Just let me know whatever your decision is." Kingsley stood, and noticing the looks on Harry, Ginny and Ron's faces he said, "I leave you four to talk." He smiled again and turned to Ron. "October seventh."

* * *

_21__st__ June, 1998_

"…Mr Weasley, I'm so sorry about your brother."

"Oh, um, thanks."

"Here, I made a pie…"

"…I made a cake for you…"

"…Here's a hamper for your family…"

George sighed as he received the fifth hamper of fruit since his store had been reopened. Lately, it seemed he was receiving more than he was selling, and he was already tired of the sympathy.

"See, him over there, the poor thing, he lost his twin you know." George would hear from the corner of his store and it made him want to scream "I'm okay! I'm fine, now will you please buy something or get out!" The truth was, George wasn't fine, he had never been alone in his life. George survived off companionship, when he was young he used to think that he would grow up and get married, but he would still live with Fred. But when George grew older and began to understand things more clearly the fantasy of being with his brother faded. George had briefly had girlfriends at Hogwarts, someone he could fool around with, take frequent trips to the broom closet with, or cut class with. However, after a while any hope of having a serious romantic relationship with a girl also faded, and right now he was too busy and wrapped up in his business to do any–

"Another hamper sir?" came the always-exhausted voice of Verity.

"Yeah," said George, tucking the basket under the shop counter. "I'll give it to Mum tomorrow night, we're celebrating Ron's brand new Order of Merlin." George rolled his eyes, if there was anything that could make Molly Weasley happier than the fact that Ron was receiving and Order of Merlin, it would be if one of her children became a prefect, and as the only Weasley that was still at school was Ginny, it was unlikely.

"Is there anything you want?" Verity asked softly.

"Nah, just – um – do what you normally do." George got up from the chair and headed for the door, he needed some fresh air, he rarely got much now-a-days. George wasn't concentrating on where he was going and before he knew it he walked into a young woman. George continuously muttered his apologies and he watched the girl's blond hair fly backwards as she bent down to pick up her shopping bags. He leant over to help just us she looked up, revealing her familiar face.

"Well, if it isn't Katie Bell," George exclaimed in forced cheerfulness.

"George, I've been meaning to come around to your shop," the young witch said, standing up and clutching her shopping bags to her chest. "How are you going?"

George glanced down at the ground and answered simply, "okay, and you?"

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I haven't come around earlier, I saw you at _his_ –" Katie paused and glanced away from George before continuing, "– funeral, but I – um – I was comforting my mum, my cousin died."

"I'm sorry," said George, repeating the words that he had heard so often.

"No, I should be the one apologising, I mean, we weren't best friends or anything, but I knew – er–"

"–You can say Fred, you know."

"Oh, yeah, of course. I just, I just wanted to know that you're okay, I care about you, you know." Katie flushed pink after she said this and George could feel his cheeks reddening.

After a lot of embarrassed silence, George spoke. "Hey Katie, it was great to see you, but I have to be getting back to the shop or my employee, Verity will … kill me" (Katie, to George's delight, smiled at this) "but I really need cheering up, and you probably do too" (she nodded) "So, the shop closes at about five thirty and there is this lovely muggle restaurant around the corner from the Leaky Cauldron, so, if you're not doing anything tonight, do you wanna meet me at the Cauldron at about six thirty, and we can walk to the restaurant from there."

"Yeah, sure," Katie grinned. "I'd really like that."

George pulled on a clean pair of pants and a plain shirt. He was glad he was getting out, it was good for him. George needed someone to talk to and even if he wasn't extremely close to Katie, it was good to spend time with someone other than the stray cat that had adopted his apartment as a home.

George had never been extremely good friends with Katie, they joked around in Quidditch practice and had small conversations every now and again, but Katie was in the year under George and so they didn't have any classes together. _Still_, George thought to himself, _it will be nice to catch up with her_, and as Lee was on holidays in America and George had generally been avoiding his family members (other than Ron who had been helping around the shop), there wasn't really anyone else to spend time with.

With one last stroke of the scrawny cat, George hopped down the stairs of his apartment. It was a warm summer's night and so the breeze was cool and it whipped calmly over George's red hair. George smiled and trotted down the cobble-stoned path of Diagon Alley, passed Flourish and Blotts and passed Ollivander's, all the way to the large brick wall that marked the entrance to the Wizarding shopping district. George tapped the brick and watched as the hole grew and grew to form an archway, he took a deep breath and stepped inside.

"Hullo Katie," he greeted enthusiastically.

"George!" The witch was already in the pub, sitting at one of the tables and sipping a butterbeer. With a flick of her wand, the bottle disappeared and she stood.

"Am I late?"

"Just a bit," Katie smiled; she was wearing a navy blue cardigan over a plain white singlet top and a pair of black skinny-leg jeans. Her soft blond locks were twisted into a loose bun. "I didn't really know what the dress code was."

"Nah, that's fine," said George, "You look very nice."

"Thanks," she grinned. "Should we get going?"

"Yeah, of course."

Katie tossed a few bronze Knuts onto the counter before leading the way to the door.

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting to long," said George. "I have this cat who's kinda adopted _me_, and so I had to find it something to eat before I left."

"No, I only arrived about five minutes before you, so I wasn't waiting that long."

"Oh good," George responded cheerfully, "Fred always said 'don't keep the girls waiting'."

Katie smiled. "Do you miss him a lot?"

"Yeah, but I'll be okay," George told her truthfully. "I'm getting sick of people feeling sorry for me; I'm not the one who needs the sympathy."

Katie looked away, quite taken aback. "But, I'm not saying I don't want you to be here," George eventually continued. "Unless, you're only here because you're feeling sorry for me."

"Oh no, that's not why."

"Good. I just – I just need someone… someone to talk to."

"I know," said Katie, and she slipped her small hand into his strong large one.

George looked down at their hands before looking back up at her, he smiled. "Thanks."

"So," Katie started. "How's business?"

"Great," George answered sarcastically. "I'm trying to invent a type of prank chocolates. Chocolates that disguise themselves as different objects, so when people come across them they won't eat them. I had lots of problems with stolen chocolate back at Hogwarts." Katie laughed and George smiled. "So, tell me about last year at Hogwarts."

"What's there to say?" The blond smiled. "There were those same lessons, those quidditch practises and I almost died, you know, all the normal things."

George smirked. "How are you now?"

"Oh, I'm better now. How's Ron?"

"Spectacular," George scoffed, he rolled his eyes. "And boasting about his bravery, and his Order of Merlin."

"His Order of Merlin?" Katie repeated, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, him, Hermione and Harry are getting Order of Merlins tomorrow. Damn brave people. He does deserve it though, he's the bravest Weasley," George admitted. "I don't think he realises it, though. I don't think he realises how proud we are of him, how much we love him."

"Here we are," George said suddenly. He opened the door for Katie, she smiled and headed in.

It was a cute little restaurant, small round tables crowded the place with cushioned chairs tucked neatly underneath them. A short rounded man headed over to them, he had a plain white shirt on, with black pants and an apron tied around his waist that said "Yello's" in pale blue friendly letters.

"Hello," the man said cheerfully. "How may I help you?"

"A table for two, please," said George.

"Do you have a reservation?"

"Um – no, sorry."

"No problem," the man said. He twirled around and headed for a small table near the window, he motioned for them to sit before placing two glossy menus on their plates.

"Enjoy your evening," he said.

The rest of the night went reasonably fast, George listened as Katie talked about her family, her friends. He'd talk about the Fred and reminisce about pranks they had pulled on Oliver, and later, Angelina. They talked about Umbridge and the DA and the bang the twins had caused when they had left Hogwarts. They'd steal food off each other's plates and flirt and laugh. And George watched Katie's rosy red lips and how they curved perfectly back at him, and he watch the way the dim light would bounce beautifully off her golden locks, and when she realised he was watching her in awe, her snowy white cheeks would redden slightly, but she'd smile.

"Thanks for tonight," Katie smiled as the two young adults arrived back at the Leaky Cauldron.

"No, thank _you_," George replied.

"Well, I'll see you round." George moved closer to Katie, he meant to give her a friendly kiss on the cheek, but Fred's voice seemed to ring in his ears, _Don't keep the girls waiting_, and before either Katie or George knew it they were kissing passionately.

One of George's hands was rested on the small of Katie's back and the other threaded into Katie's fair hair, which now hung in loose waves at her shoulders. The two stayed in their embrace for a few moments before breaking apart in gazing into each other's eyes.

"Come back to my apartment," George blurted out. Katie nodded and they headed quickly to the Wall.

An exhilarated George kicked the brick with such force that his foot started throbbing painfully, but he quickly pulled Katie through the entranceway. They ran up the street of Diagon Alley in silence, smiling at each other every now and then. Their shoes tapped loudly on the cobblestone path. They passed Ollivander's and they passed Flourish and Blotts, and warm drops of rain started to patter down onto the road, they continued to run. The air whipped through their hair, the same air that would whip through their hair every quidditch game.

The door opened automatically when the young red-head and the young blond galloped up the stairs. The door swung closed behind them and George immediately pulled Katie back towards him, his tongue re-entering her mouth. All George's thoughts seemed to flutter away like young butterflies, and for once in the past month he let himself go, he was free. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Her hands were cool and soothing, George thought as he weaved his fingers back through her hair.

They broke apart once again and George grabbed her hand and pulled her into his small bedroom. He leaned over and began kissing down Katie's neck, chills crept over the witch's neck and she gasped. Their lips met once more and it seemed as though the whole world consisted of just the two of them, the soft mewing of the cat faded away, the gentle pitter-patter of the rain faded away.

George pushed her against the wall, his hand creeping slowly up Katie's back as she reached for his shirt and pulled it over his red hair. Katie ran a finger over his perfectly toned torso, he seemed so different from his Hogwarts days, he was stronger and much more muscled, and he looked much less windswept than his Quidditch days, he hadn't been on his broomstick for months.

The young witch ran her fingers down the boy's jaw line as she trailed kisses along the same path. George's hands found their way to the buttons of Katie's cardigan, one by one he tugged at them and they came undone. George slid the clothing off her shoulders. The wizard ran his gentle hand over her snowy white, flawless skin; she shivered and buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

Katie stepped backwards slightly, without her shoes she was at least four inches shorter than George, and so she glanced up into his aqua blue eyes. George placed his hand on the side of her face, tracing the faint outline of her freckles with his thumb. George's hands moved back down Katie's neck and followed the outline of her slim figure until they reached her bottom of her singlet; he carefully lifted the shirt over her head.

By now it was dark, and the only light in the room came from Katie's hazel eyes which still reflected the small child she had grown out of. George pulled Katie closer; his strong hand sliding up her back in search of the clasp of her lingerie, the bra slipped off her shoulders. Katie stood, for a moment with her eyes shut, breathing deeply. She could feel George's fingers graze lightly over her skin, across her breasts, down to her hips.

Katie's eyes opened and her cheeks reddened when she realised that George was so close. George smiled that mischievous smile that reminded Katie of all the Quidditch games, Hogsmeade trips, DA meetings and ordinary school days, and it relieved her to be able to see the same George smiling again.

Katie leaped; she lunged herself, with all her might, into the boy's arms, causing George to fall backwards onto the soft mattress behind him. He looked down at the blond, whose face was propped up on her hands, her elbows digging softly into his ribs. He smiled again, curling her hair around his fingers.

Katie traced her fingers down is jaw line, her fingers grazed over his soft, pale lips. She drew an invisible line down the side of his torso, George's muscles tensed up as she reached a sensitive spot just above his waist. Her fingers continued on their path, they ended at the waistband of his jeans and almost as soon as she touched the firm denim the clothing disappeared.

George gasped, his ears reddening, he sat up and reached for his wand that rested on the bedside table, but when he looked back Katie was already undressed. For an awkward moment George remained staring at the blossoming witch that sat in front of him, before breaking into a grin. He leant forward and grabbed Katie's soft, pale hand, so cold but so delicate. The wizard placed his other hand on the side of her face, resting his forehead on hers.

"You're beautiful."

* * *

"_Fred! Look at these!"_

"_What?" The young red-head said, turning to see his twin running over to him, a mysterious bag in his left hand. Fred grinned and stood up from his spot under his favourite willow tree by the lake._

_George handed the bag to his brother, a matching grin plastered on his face. "These."_

"ACID POPS! – Designed for Torturing!_" Fred read, he reached into the bag and produced a pitch black lolly pop. "Where'd you get these?"_

"_Charlie sent them, a birthday present for tomorrow, he got them in Hogsmeade," George stated, "Anyway, I was thinking, do you suppose Ron would eat one if we told him it was liquorish flavoured?"_

"_Probably," Fred answered, an image of their younger brother with a large hole in his tongue filled Fred's mind. "Let's do it!"_

* * *

_21__st__ June, 1998_

"Hey, Georgie-boy, check this out!" George winced as Ron slammed his Order of Merlin case down on the register with such force that the glass display next on the desk shattered, glass splintering the room.

George groaned but Ron dropped to the ground, quickly muttering _reparo_. George reached for the case and opened it examining the medal inside it.

"Nice," he said eventually.

"Mmmhmm," Ron agreed, "And guess what else."

"What?"

"Shacklebolt offered us jobs as Aurors, well he offered us a place in the training program."

"Awesome," George yawned, zapping a box of canary creams with his wand before handing it back to the customer who was buying it.

"Mmmhmm," Ron repeated, slightly less enthusiastically.

"What's the matter?" George asked when he noticed the droop in Ron's smile.

"Oh, it's nothing really, but I didn't really plan on becoming an Auror."

"What do you wanna be?"

"A lawyer."

"What?!" George gasped, almost falling of his chair.

"You know, I always thought it would be cool being part of the Wizengamot, or study the law, or keep thing in the world in order."

"Wow, I don't mean to be sceptical or anything, I just never imagined you being a lawyer or anything, I mean, you're pretty good at proving your point and everything," George ran a hand through his messy hair. "I guess, if you asked Kingsley he'd probably accept you into that course as well."

"Yeah, I was going to talk to him about it, but I didn't want to say it in front of Ginny, or Hermione, or Harry, they'd probably laugh."

"So why didn't you go talk to him alone, later?"

"Something else came up," Ron lowered his eyes, he seemed to be fidgeting pretty intensely, he was rubbing at his hands as if to distract George.

"What happened?"

Ron looked up. It was now visible that his eyes were filling with tears.

"Hold on one sec," said George, holding up his hand. "Verity, do you mind looking after the shop for a few minutes?" the girl nodded in reply and George grabbed Ron's arm, pulling him into the back room. With a flick of his wand, George had conjured up two chairs. Ron took one and George, the other.

"So, what happened?" George asked again.

"Well, Shacklebolt asked us each personally if we wanted the job. Harry obviously said yes, he's wanted to be an Auror since fifth year, maybe even earlier. Then I said I had to think about and then he came to Hermione," He casually wiped away a single tear that had escaped the aqua puddles of his eyes. "He said to her that he had heard about her _other_ job offer –"

"Other job offer? Where?"

"Hogwarts!" Ron burst. "McGonagall offered her the job of potions professor." Ron leant forward, burying his face in his hands, George kept silent.

"I would have been happy for her if she took any job," Ron continued. "She's amazing, you know, she could do anything, but Hogwarts? Hogwarts teachers are like the students. They go to school every term and live there! Seriously, which of the Hogwarts teachers actually have lives?"

George resisted the urge to laugh, Ron was right. "But Hermione," Ron said softly. "She's got Harry and Ginny, she's got her parents. She's got me." Ron's face met his hands once again.

George sat in silence, taking in the sounds of his baby brother's sobs. "You really love her, don't you?" George said quietly.

"Love," Ron replied. "Why don't people say love enough? Why can't I tell people I love them? Why didn't I tell Fred that I loved him –"

Tears filled George's eyes. "I keep remembering that night," he admitted. "The last thing he said to me was that he loved me. That was the last thing I said to him too." Ron looked up, his eyes meeting with his brother's. George's heart skipped a beat, he had never fully realised that Ron had the exact same eyes as Fred, their father's eyes, his eyes.

"I love _you_ George. Why don't I say that more? Why don't I tell Bill I love him, why don't I tell Charlie, or Percy, or Ginny? Why can't I tell Harry that I love him, 'cause I do, he's my brother too. Why haven't I told mum I love her yet? Shouldn't I be saying it every time I see her?" Ron stood. "Why haven't I told dad that I love him, lately?"

"Why haven't you told Hermione you love her?" George said, standing from his chair. George stretched to try and match Ron's height. "Why do we take each other for granted? I love you too Ron."

"I have to go," said Ron suddenly. He turned and left, but not without an "I love you" to his brother.

George smiled slightly before the affect of his brother's words really hit him. Those three little words were enough to brighten anyone's day.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted, after apparating into Harry's apartment. He charged into the kitchen only to find Harry sitting at the table reading a bunch of booklets about Aurors.

"Harry!" he said, sitting in the chair opposite the raven-haired wizard, the boy lowered the booklet and raised his eyebrows. "I love you," Ron blurted out.

"Okay then," Harry said, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed his friend. Harry's emerald eyes lingered over Ron's, he could tell that the boy had been crying, it wasn't surprising though, Harry's two friends had put on quite a show at the Ministry.

"I had an epiphany," Ron admitted.

"Okay," was all Harry could say.

"I realised that I should be able to tell you I love you, you're my brother, and I should be able to tell my brothers that I love them. I've already lost one of them and I wish I had of told him that I love him."

Harry nodded.

"I need to find Hermione. I need to tell her that I'd be happy with whatever occupation she picks. I need her to know that I care about her, that I love her."

Harry nodded again, he knew it would have been hard for Ron to say those things, after all, the boy had spent the majority of his years refusing to believe that he loved Hermione. "She went to The Burrow; she's helping your mum and Ginny cook for tonight."

"Thanks," Ron smiled.

"Hermione, Hermione!" again, Ron repeated the same words the moment he apparated outside the Burrow. He banged at the door three times before it opened, revealing the happy face of his younger sister. He raced passed Ginny and into the kitchen where Hermione stood facing the sink. She turned around slowly, eyes facing the floor and arms crossed. Her expression was unreadable; however, Ron could still see the dried tear-tracks that decorated her face.

"Hermione," Ron said softly, approaching her cautiously. She turned around slowly, her head was bowed and her arms were crossed loosely.

"I don't mind where you work," Ron insisted, placing a hand on her cheek. "I just want you to be happy." He moved his hand from Hermione's cheek and raked it through his pumpkin coloured tresses. Ron looked up at the ceiling before turning back to Hermione who was still staring at the floor.

"I – I love you," Ron meant to whisper, but the statement came out much louder than expected. He didn't care though, Hermione was now looking directly at him, her warm chocolate coloured eyes lighting up her face and Ron's heart.

Without a care in the world, Ron wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a passionate kiss, not caring that his mother was standing mere metres away beaming while tears drifted down her face, or that his sister stood smirking at the doorway. The whole world just melted away because there was only one person in the world that meant something at that moment.

* * *

George never needed love. He never relied on it, never lived by it, never experienced it. He didn't understand how it worked.

There are two kinds of love, George would tell himself. The kind that you felt with siblings, a different kind of love that you could just say to your parents every night. The same kind of love that you would say to your pets. The innocent, naïve love that came naturally, and then there was another type of love.

The type of love George witnessed whenever he was in the Burrow, when his mother would lean over and plant a sweet, small kiss on his father's cheek, they had found that love. The way Ron would blush tomato red whenever Hermione grinned at him, they had found that love. The way Ginny and Harry's fingers seemed permanently intertwined as they rested on the dining-room table, they too had found love.

And somehow, George felt lost. He had never felt the love but he somehow needed it. He sat in silence that whole night watching the relationships around him and longing for someone to call his own.

Maybe Katie Bell would be the beginning of the rest of his life.

* * *

**So, I'm lazy, sue me… I have no excuse for taking so long to put this chapter up, and now I'm doing it at 2.21 a.m… strange… I've been pretty peeved off lately, I have one day left of school until summer holidays (yes, I live in the southern hemisphere), my house got broken into a couple o' weeks ago, the car was stolen and my precious playstation, along with the game card that probably contains about 70 (or more) hours of my life, plus even more of my sister's…**

**Anyhoo, right now I can't be bothered to write because I'm either watching Scrubs or season 4 of Grey's Anatomy, on the internet… The song at the beginning was **_**You're the Inspiration**_** by **_**Chicago**_**, if anyone cares… good song anyway…**

**Oh well… I'll try to get another chapter out by 2009…**

**BellaDevil**


	3. Inspector Weasley

**I'm back! I know, I know, I have now excuse for the lateness and I feel really bad for my laziness… Anyway, I managed to get this chapter out, but the end is a bit rushed, I couldn't think of a way to end it because I didn't want the chapter to be too long.**

**There might be a few mistakes, I attempted to proof read it, but I always find it easier if I read out loud to someone…**

**Thanks to everyone that read, and more importantly those who reviewed, that is, Bec, Heather, hawkeye1958 and hondagirl… then an even bigger thanks to amee and loverrr111!1 who left kind massages telling me too pull my finger out and write… this chapter is for you two because you really did make me feel bad and want to write more.

* * *

**

**There's Always Tomorrow**

**By BellaDevil

* * *

**

**Chapter 3 – inspector weasley**

Percy Weasley was the Junior Assistant to the British Minister for Magic. He did his job spectacularly, and he always had. Through the rein of Cornelius Fudge, then later, Rufus Scrimgeour, and the short period when Pius Thicknesse ruled the Ministry. Percy worked his very best.

Percy liked Kingsley Shacklebolt. Originally he didn't. They seemed to be on different sides at first, when Shacklebolt stuck by the Order of the Phoenix and Percy's loyalties lay with the Ministry. Kingsley was unsure about the young Weasley when he was first named Minister. Percy didn't have the best reputation. Kingsley, himself, had questioned the boy after Barty Crouch's death. But after a while Kingsley came to trust Percy, and, in tern, Percy respected the new Minister.

It was the first day of July when Shacklebolt came to Percy with a certain "special" job. Every store in Diagon Alley needed to be inspected for harmful and dangerous items and Percy was the man for the job.

Shacklebolt smiled and patted Percy on the back, before handing over a clipboard on which each store was listed alphabetically. Percy couldn't say no, he never said no to work, and so Percy Weasley took the clipboard without hesitation and he ignored the muttered comments of "what a suck up" and "Minister's little pet", he even ignored the fact that the other workers had dubbed him "Inspector Weasley".

Percy chuckled as he trotted down the cobble-stoned path of Diagon Alley. All of the Weasleys were, in some way, inspectors.

"Child Inspector, Muggle Inspector, Pyramid Inspector, Dragon Inspector, Joke Inspector," he said before pausing, Percy chose not to think what type of inspector Ron would be, and what type of inspector Ginny would be, for that matter.

The young red-head reached his destination at last, pushing open the familiar door of store 97. The bell above the door rang welcoming Percy into what he knew as one of the busiest times of the year, when parents and children ran around Diagon Alley getting ready for the upcoming school year.

Percy moved through the crowd of teenagers. Children ran from one end of the store to another, girls giggled over the stock of love potions, boys tested out trick sweets and Percy made his way to the check out where his brother lounged on the chair, feet resting on the desk. Reading glasses were propped on George's nose as his eyes scanned over the pages of the book he was reading.

Percy cleared his throat and waited until George looked up before speaking.

"I told you I would be inspecting today," He said quietly.

"Yeah, yeah," George muttered. "And hello to you too."

"Since when do you read, and since when do you need glasses?" Percy asked, pushing his own horn-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"I don't need them; they make me look smarter," George smiled as Percy rolled his eyes.

"So did you get that list together?" said Percy as he began to get down to business.

"What list?"

"The one I asked you to get together, the one of all the products that you sell," Percy answered, exasperatedly.

"Oh, that list, yeah I did that," George grinned and he was sure his brother muttered something sceptical under his breath. George examined his ruffled draw searching for the list.

"Here we go," He said, passing a roll of parchment to Percy. The list was long and Percy let out a frustrated sigh.

"You sell all of this?" He asked.

"Most of the lollies are from Honeydukes and that other guy that examined Hogsmeade passed Honeydukes as "safe", so you can tick all of them off," George said, taking the list and crossing off all the Honeydukes sweets. "And the majority of our products have age limits so we don't sell to people younger, or older for that matter," He continued.

"What about these," Percy asked, pointing to the box of what looked little colourful pom-poms with big brown eyes.

"Pygmy-puffs, of miniature Puffskeins, Fred and I bred miniature ones and they're a lot better behaved," George explained.

"How so?"

"Well, these guys aren't vicious, they're great with kids, and the males are much less… Masculine, so there isn't any sexual tension between them and the owner. Ginny bought one of the pups from the first litter and he's pretty well behaved as I've –"

"George, I found this young man trying to steal a Patented Daydream," the employee Verity interrupted, pushing forward a young boy with light brown hair and freckles.

"I just wanted to feel like a man," the boy called out, he was rather embarrassed as his cheeks were flushed a pale pink colour. Percy's eyes widened.

"Oh George, tell me you don't sell –"

"Of course we don't," George automatically answered, giving his brother a disgusted look. "We sell daydream charms," he grabbed the box out of boy's hands and passed it to his brother. "But they are inappropriate for people under sixteen, they might include a couple of fairly attractive blonds in bikinis."

Percy rolled his eyes.

George turned to the boy. "Go buy something for your own age, and next time you think of shoplifting don't do it in my shop." The boy seemed very glad to be able to get away as he ran to the opposite side of the store.

"Thanks Verity." George chucked the box in the air and Percy watched as it floated unconsciously over to the shelf on which it was from. "Percy, this is Verity, Verity this is my brother Percy," he introduced.

"Hello," Verity smiled. "Mr Weasley – George – has told me so much about you."

"Really?" Percy said, turning to George.

"Yeah, Verity knows all about our family."

"Speaking of our family, mum wants us over for dinner; apparently Bill and Fleur are making an announcement."

"I wonder what that's about," George retorted sarcastically.

"Oh, so she is pregnant," Verity squealed.

Percy turned to her, a questioning look on his speckled face.

"Um, I should get back to work," Verity decided. Her cheeks reddened as she headed back into the crowd of people.

"Come on," said George, standing and leading the way to the back of the store.

"So, are you coming tonight?"

"I have to," George answered, bundling up a pile of Skiving Snackboxes and heading back into the shop. "I'm so sick of all these dinners we've been having. We had one last week, we're having one this week and in three days it's Harry's birthday and so we'll have to have one then too. I mean, as if I don't see enough of this family."

"It's because _Mum_ doesn't," Percy said, helping George sort the Snackboxes into their respective piles. "Mum doesn't see us anymore and she wants to. Now that Ron and Ginny are living with Harry."

"Ginny doesn't live with Harry," George immediately corrected.

"Yes she does."

"No, she goes to his house every morning and spends most of the day there but she doesn't actually sleep there."

"How come?"

"Because Harry's a gentleman and he wants to take things slow," George snorted, making his way to the back room, Percy following.

"I really don't want to talk about this," Percy said, shaking his head.

"Oh, come on Perce," George turned to his brother smiling, "Our baby sister is growing up, I'd be surprised if ickle Ronnie hasn't done Hermione yet."

"Leaving," Percy nodded, his eyes wide and nose wrinkled, in slight disgust. He turned to leave the store-room but found himself bumping into Verity.

"Sorry," Percy said immediately, steadying himself. Verity brushed her short blond hair off her face, and obvious blush lingering on her cheeks.

"So, I'll see you later?" Percy asked George, and his brother groaned in reply.

"You're really lucky that your family gets together so often," Verity told them quietly.

"No, we really aren't," said George.

Verity lowered her glossy eyes. "I haven't spoken to my mother in two years."

"Do you want to come to the Burrow tonight?" Percy asked after a long silence.

"The Burrow?"

"Our house," said George.

"Um, I guess," Verity answered, her eyes still lowered and a sense of awkwardness in the air.

"We really wouldn't mind having you there," said Percy, and George first noticed that the usual pompousness in his voice was gone. "Merlin knows that Ron always has his friends over," Percy continued, "And you're George's friend."

Verity nodded, smiling widely.

"I'll see you then," said Percy, addressing both George and Verity. He turned and weaved through the rest of the room, exiting through the door, bell ringing again. The Store Inspector stepped outside, a strong breeze sweeping his un-Percy-like long hair from side to side as he looked down at the list of stores.

Percy sighed. "Onwards to WizzHard Books."

* * *

Over the past few months Harry was starting to get tired of Ron and Hermione's endless fights that now occupied his apartment. His friends' fights used to annoy him in Hogwarts, but now that Hermione and Ron were a couple their fights were a thousand times worse, and they always ended in public displays of affection which often turned Harry off his food.

When Harry tried to talk to Ron about the public snogging, the red-head only replied, "Try to imagine that Hermione is your sister, 'cause that's how it feels when you and Ginny snog." Harry was about to point out that Hermione was as good as his sister, but he thought it best not to get into a fight with Ron.

A week before Harry's eighteenth birthday he decided to talk to Ginny about his dilemma.

"Tell them to leave," Ginny told him seriously. "I want to do something special for you birthday next week." Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Not that," Ginny replied quickly. "Just something nice over here, and it would be better with them gone." Harry argued over the choices to himself for a few days before coming up with a conclusion.

On the Sunday before Harry's birthday, Hermione and Ron were sitting at the kitchen table after a fairly small fight. They were wrapped in each other's arms in the middle of a soft embrace, Hermione pulled away from Ron, only to smile at him before deepening the kiss. Neither of them realised that their other friend had entered the room until Harry cleared his throat loudly.

They broke apart, Hermione trying to flatten her hair, Ron reddening.

"Can I talk?" Harry asked.

"Sure," said Hermione, smiling.

Harry pulled out a chair opposite his two friends.

Harry took a deep breath. "I think, it's time for you two to find your own place." A silence swept over the tidy kitchen.

"You're kicking us out?" Ron eventually said.

"No! Not at all," said Harry and he sighed before continuing. "It's just, you two are fighting an awful lot and I always seem to get stuck in the middle of it."

Harry noticed that Ron seemed extremely shocked, he stood. "How are we supposed to buy our own place?" Hermione silenced him.

"Harry, we don't really have piles of galleons in Gringotts," She said quietly.

Harry stood to face Ron. "That's exactly why I'm going to buy you a place."

"No," Ron told him, lowering his eyes and shaking his head, "I don't need charity."

"It's not charity, it's payment."

"What do you mean? You're paying us to be your friends," Hermione asked.

"No," Harry sat back down and ran a hand trough his unruly hair, "It's because of what you've done for me." Harry paused but no one interrupted. "It's because of what I put you through last year, how many times we were almost killed and how many times you both saved me, and how you stayed with me the whole time. I probably wouldn't even have survived to my seventeenth birthday if you two hadn't helped me in the Chamber of Secrets _and_ in the Department of Mysteries _and_ when saving the Philosophers Stone."

Hermione walked around to kneel beside Harry's chair, looking up at him. "We didn't do any of that stuff because we wanted you to buy us a house; we did that stuff because we love you."

"Besides," Ron smiled. "It sounds a whole lot cooler when you say it like that."

Harry grinned.

"If you're really sick of our snogging," Ron continued, Hermione stood up, her face pink. "We'll stop, if you want."

Harry thought for a moment. "I want you to move out, I want to buy you a house where you can do all the snogging you want. I don't want to have piles of Galleons at Gringotts, I want to make my own wealth. I want to buy you a house so we can relax there instead of here in my apartment."

Ron shrugged. "Whatever you want."

"I like this one," Ginny grinned twirling around the family room.

"Well it's not your's to like," Ron told her, and she poked out her tongue. The four friends had spent three hours hopping around different Wizarding villages looking for a house. And it was not easy.

"It's too small," Harry pointed out, looking at the floor plan.

"We don't need a mansion, this house is fine," said Hermione.

"Well I'm only buying you one house, and it's got to last you a while," Harry told her, shrugging. "It's has to have rooms, you know, for when you have kids."

Ron glanced over at Hermione and blushed furiously. "Okay," he said, "Fine, let's try again."

"Oooo, there's one in Godric's Hollow," Ginny said, pointing to the list of houses they were to visit.

"There is _no_ way we're getting that one," Hermione said, leading the way out of the small house.

"Why not?"

"It was Bathilda Bagshot's house," Harry said pointedly, his eye's shiny. "Brings back bad memories."

"I'd like to go to Godric's Hollow," Ginny told him as she slid her small hand into his.

"It's really not that great," and Harry leant over Ginny to examine the list.

"Wonderful, 26 Marlins Place, Hogsmeade," He said. "Good location for your job Hermione."

They linked arms and with a simple "pop" they disappeared into a thin tube of space and time.

The house was quite handsome. The base of the house was made in light sandstone followed by a cream-coloured rendered brick. It was double story and "big enough" for Harry.

Ron was the first to push open the door; it was cosy and very inviting. Hermione moved swiftly over to the owner who was standing in the kitchen chatting with his elderly neighbours. He looked to be in his late forties but his hair was greying and frown lines were visible on his aging face.

"Hullo," Hermione said, holding out her hand.

"Welcome, are you interested in buy…" His sentenced faded into nothingness as Harry entered the room.

The man grabbed on to Harry's hand, shaking it eagerly. "Harry Potter, I feel so honoured to meet you."

"I'm not that special," Harry mumbled, but the man ignored him and continued to swoon.

"So brave, so modest," he continued, Harry could here Ron snickering behind the man's back. "Are you interested in buying my mother's house?"

"Not me," said Harry. "Well, I am buying it, but not for myself."

"So generous," the guy continued, still shaking Harry's hand vigorously. "My name is Patrick Mackellar."

"Hi, Patrick," Harry said, smiling awkwardly.

"So you want to by my mother's house," Patrick said again.

"Er, yeah."

"Just as long at this nut-job doesn't ever turn up," Ron muttered to his sister who grinned.

"It comes fully furnished," Patrick assured them. "Except for these old photos, I'll be taking them with me."

"We're just going to look around," Hermione said.

They explored the house. It was very nice, three fairly large bedrooms and what could be used as a study or an extra living area. The rooms were filled with plump maroon sofas and shiny surfaces, large wardrobes and a spacious dining area. The kitchen housed a shiny metallic stove and a large fridge, which Ginny and Ron agreed their mother would adore.

"Nice bathroom," Hermione said as the four of them examined the master bedroom.

Ron bounced up and down on the bed. "Bouncy bed."

"Stop that," Hermione told him, and he stopped immediately. "Harry, I don't think that we should – I mean – it's so big and beautiful, but the guy is going to charge us heaps for it." She spun around slowly, looking around the whole room, Ron was now stretched out across the bed, and at Hermione's glance he got up and moved to the edge of the bed.

"Hermione's right," he said. "It's too much to ask for, that house in Tinworth was more practical."

"I want to buy you this house, and I know you like it, and I don't care about the price because I wish I didn't have any of the money anyway."

Hermione looked around the room, once more. "We'll think about it," she smiled weakly and Ron nodded in agreement.

"Okay, think about it well, though."

Harry turned to move near Ginny. She was standing at the large viewing window; it reminded Harry of the large window in her room which faced the Orchard. This window, however, was much grander, and it held a more splendid view, the magnificent castle of Hogwarts.

Ginny was watching the building, her eyes full of sadness.

"I'm going to miss that place," Harry told her, slipping his strong hand in her's. "You're lucky you have another year there."

Ginny pulled back. "I'm not going back there."

"What do you mean?"

"I – I can't, not after what happened," She glanced one last time at the school before turning her back on it. It was then, Harry realised that Hermione and Ron had slipped silently out of the room.

"You have to go back."

"I told you Harry, I can't," she said once more, "Don't you understand. That's where Fred died, and Tonks and Colin. I can't go back there, not after what happened."

Harry moved to face her, Ginny turned away from him. "I want you to finish school, Fred would have wanted you –"

"To finish school?" Ginny shrieked, half laughing, "Neither _you_ nor _Fred_ finished school."

"What are you going to do?" Harry said, throwing his arms in the air. "What are you going to do with your life if you just drop out?"

"There are other things I can do," Ginny insisted, her forceful eyes returning Harry's intense stare. "I can work for George."

"But that isn't what you want to do."

"Says who?"

Harry laughed. "I know you better than you think."

Ginny scowled. "You're a determined person, Ginny," Harry said, and she turned away from him once more.

"I don't want to leave you," she mumbled quietly.

"What?"

"Never mind."

"I'm not going to leave you Ginny," He assured. "I'll write you all the time and I'll meet up with you on Hogsmeade weekends, and everything."

"I'm can't go back," Ginny repeated stubbornly, still not facing Harry.

"Fine," He muttered and he stomped out the door.

Ginny didn't talk to Harry for the rest of the house shopping experience. It was a pretty pointless afternoon as the only time anyone every spoke was to either complement or criticize the Wizarding house that they were inspecting. Harry kept insisting that the house in Hogsmeade was, other than being the largest, also the most practical and convenient house to live in. Patrick was offering the house for one hundred and fifty thousand Galleons, fully furnished and all, which Harry thought was a good deal but Hermione and Ron were convinced it was way too much.

The four young adults reached the Burrow in the late afternoon, hair windswept and slightly dizzy from the frequent apparition.

Voices coming from the sitting room were filling the house when Harry stepped through the front door. He recognised one voice easily, Mrs Weasley, but the second voice was not so familiar. He was sure he had heard it before.

"– just for a few days," the female was saying. "You must understand, Molly."

Harry stepped into the room and both women, Mrs Weasley and Andromeda Tonks turned their heads in his direction. Andromeda blushed slightly and handed Mrs Weasley a small, full bag.

She muttered a quick "Thanks", before heading out the door, passing the four confused friends. As she passed Harry realised that her brown eyes, though warm, we red and puffy, and her face was decorated with tearstains.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Molly told the four magicians once the sound of a closing door echoed around the house. She placed Andromeda's bag on the old, patched sofa. As she moved, Harry noticed a small basket-like crib that previously had been hidden by the Weasley matriarch.

Harry remained in the doorway; his three friends huddled up behind him. He was sure he felt Ginny's warm fingers graze over his own but he wasn't sure if it was on purpose.

"Andromeda was in my year at Hogwarts," Mrs Weasley explained, running her fingers fondly over the worn sofa. "She was in Slytherin, of course, but we got to know each other when we were prefects together." Harry approached her.

"I've been going to her house to visit. She's not taking it well. Tonks was her only child and I lost Fred but I still have six other children." Molly kept her glossy eyes on the couch. Harry knew that she still found it hard to mention Fred.

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder. She forced out a smile.

"I don't mind looking after him," she told Harry. He moved over to the small crib and knelt down.

The baby was asleep. One little hand scrunched into a fist, he was sucking on the thumb of his other hand while the other tiny fingers were spread over his cheek. Unconsciously his suckled on his finger. Teddy's hair, today, was a natural shade of brown, a familiar shade that reminded Harry so much of the boy's father. And his little face was the exact shape of his mother. It made Harry's heart swell with sadness and he knew that it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Teddy had been torn away from his parents at barely a month old. It wasn't fair that he, not unlike Harry, would grow up without parents.

Would the child know that his parents had died for his Godfather? It was then that Harry knew what he had to do. He was a Godfather and so he was already tied to this boy. Harry had a responsibility. He had to be the Godfather that Sirius could have never been. He had to look after the boy. He had to care for Teddy like a son. And so Harry made up his mind.

"I'll look after him." Molly didn't reply. "I'm his Godfather, he's my responsibility."

"Oh no, Harry it's fine," Molly kneeled next to Harry. "You have other things to do, you're starting work in a couple of months."

"She said that she was leaving him for a few days," Harry informed, "And I'd really like to look after him."

"I'll help." Came the soft voice of Ginny.

Harry turned around and realised that his three friends were standing directly behind him. He stood up straight. He was a good head taller than Ginny, and she looked up to meet his eyes. Her expression was unreadable and Harry wasn't sure whether all had been forgiven.

"I'll help you. I promised Andromeda that I'd help if she needed it." Harry offered Ginny a small smile which she returned.

Mrs Weasley looked from Harry to Ginny before sighing. "I guess," She decided at last. "But you won't know how to look after him." They all looked down at the little boy, he stirred in his blankets and yawned, but he stayed asleep, dreams filling his little head.

"They'll need to learn someday," Ron smiled, Ginny's faced reddened and she glared at Ron. He didn't seem to notice.

"Fine," Mrs Weasley agreed. She bent over to crib and ran a hand softly over Teddy's head. She stood and left the room. She had a family to cook for.

"So," said Harry, turning to Ginny.

"So…" Ginny repeated.

"What's happening then?"

She collapsed on the lounge and thought for a moment.

"You'll come every Hogsmeade weekend," Ginny finally said. Harry broke into a smile, the crooked smile that Ginny loved so much.

"Every Hogsmeade weekend," Harry agreed.

"And you'll write?"

"Whenever you want me to."

"Every day," Ginny told him. She stood up, they found themselves just inches apart.

"And you won't find some attractive ministry worker."

Harry snorted. "Never." He placed a hand on both lightly freckled cheeks, raising her porcelain face upwards so their noses touched.

"Never," he repeated quietly.

"Good," she said, pulling away and grinning widely. "Then we have a deal."

Harry gave her a questioning look and she automatically answered.

"You be a faithfully boyfriend and I'll help you look after Teddy." The baby whimpered involuntarily. "Deal?" She held out her hand.

Harry looked down at her hand before pulling her into his arms. Their lips meeting, her unique flavour seemed to dance over his taste buds.

They pulled away after a while, gasping for air, their heads spinning from the lack of oxygen. Harry kept hold of Ginny, their heads close together. He smiled at her, she grinned back.

"And we're going to have to get rid of them." She said, motioning behind Harry.

He let Ginny go, the heels of her feet touching the ground again. He turned around.

Ron and Hermione were avoiding their display. The hypocrisy of the moment seemed to blast out of Ron.

Harry turned back to Ginny and answered, "That can be arranged."

* * *

Bill stood and the window of his bedroom waiting for his wife to emerge from the bathroom. He inspected the dazzling view. The sun was setting, causing the sky to be filled with pinks and oranges and soft violets. Rolling waves crashed on the nearby coast and the smell of the salty water mixed with the flowery scent of Fleur to fill the small house. It almost seemed perfect.

But Bill was still fretting. In less than an hour he was to tell his large family that he was going to become a father. He knew that his family would be happy and supportive, they'd be overjoyed, truthfully. Yet Bill was still worried.

He, _himself_, was overjoyed at the fact that he'd be a father, but he felt guilty. As the oldest of seven it was his role to look after his siblings, to protect them, and yet, he felt like he had failed. He felt like he hadn't mourned over his brother for long enough, had he gotten over Fred too quickly?

No, he answered for himself. He would never be "over" Fred, he just wasn't sad anymore. Like George had said so well, "That's what Fred would have wanted". He would have wanted them to be happy, he would have wanted his brothers and sisters to love and be loved, and to have children.

Bill wiped away a stray tear, and for the first time he believed that Fred would have been proud.

"Bill?" Came Fleur's melodic voice from the doorway. He turned around, brushing his long bangs off his face. She approached him, moving so delicately, so lightly.

Bill smiled.

"Is something wrong?" Fleur asked. Her French accent still strong.

"No," he assured. Running a hand through her long silvery hair. _She_ was perfect.

Bill try to convince himself that he was good enough for her but he somehow doubted himself. He felt plain, ugly, around her. With her perfect face and her beautiful blue eyes, and all other guys would swoon over her. Somehow she loved him, with his fading scars and his freckled face.

She ran a cold hand across his face, tracing the scar that painted its way from his forehead to the corner of his lip. The scar seemed to tingle as her fingers travelled across his face, continuing after the scar ended and stopping once they reached his chin.

She smiled broadly, her perfect teeth shining. "Zey are healing."

Her fingers travelled once more down his neck and across his bare chest, but instead of inspecting the scars, her hands moved to his back as she pulled her still-thin frame into his tall muscular one.

He wrapped his arms around her, kissing the side of her head and inhaling the fruity scent of her conditioner. For a moment they just stood there, swaying slightly, the slight swell of his wife's belly pressed into Bill, but he felt warm.

Fleur broke away from him and twirled around in the floaty way in which she moved. She grabbed Bill's neatly ironed shirt that was sprawled across their double bed.

She passed it to him and waited for him to pull it over his torso before moving closer to button it up.

Bill placed a hand on her cheek and pulled her back towards his lips, placing a deep kiss on her own.

"I love you," he told her truthfully.

"I love you too," and Bill could believe her.

She smiled and turned back to his buttons, fumbling with the last few.

"We 'ad better go," Fleur said, stepping backwards before weaving her waist-length hair into a French braid.

"Yeah, mum will start to worry." Bill headed to the fireplace and waited for his wife.

"You ready?" He asked her. She smiled and nodded as Bill threw a handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace. He grabbed her hand and together they stepped into the flame.

All it took was, "The Burrow", from both of them, clearly and synchronised, and they were off.

"There you go, that's right," was the first thing Bill heard as he and his wife landed feet first in the familiar fire place. "Support his head –"

"I think he knows mum." Bill stepped out of the sooty area before turning around and helping Fleur out. She shook her braid and a small amount of soot fell out and onto the welcome mat.

They headed into the kitchen.

"And here's his –"

"I think I'm okay now, Mrs Weasley. Thanks," Harry was interrupting as the young couple stood at the kitchen door. Harry was holding a tiny baby, who could only be Teddy Lupin, in one hand, and a bottle of milk in the other. He smiled in welcome passed Mrs Weasley and directly at the Bill. Mrs Weasley swung around.

"Oh – Bill, Fleur – good, you're here," She moved over to them, leading them back into the sitting room.

"You're early," she said when they reached the wanted destination. She wiped her forehead on the back of her hand.

"That's okay; Fleur and I actually wanted to grab a few things from my room." Bill towered over his little mother, but he still feared her at times. She was his mother, the woman who raised him, she was someone to be respected, someone to treat well, but lately she wasn't her old controlling self, she seemed a little lost.

Mrs Weasley nodded. "But don't be up there to long," she told the two.

"You're the first here, other than those four," she gestured to the kitchen. "And I had hoped Andromeda – Tonks' mother – would stay for dinner, but she's hasn't been well."

"She left Teddy?" Fleur questioned.

Mrs Weasley sighed. "Yes," she turned and began fattening the soft cushions that decorated her beloved couch, "She asked me to look after Teddy but Harry insisted on taking him." She sighed once again.

"I don't really mind," she went on, "but he shouldn't have that responsibility, he's still a boy –"

"He's almost eighteen," Bill reminded her.

"Well. Yes. But he's too young to have to look after a child. He should be free now, but if that's what he wants, then he's more than welcome to look after the boy." Happy voices from the kitchen could be heard and Molly glanced at the doorway.

"He's a great boy – man," She told them. "And there's no one better for Ginny."

"He is," Bill agreed. "Is dad back?"

"No," Mrs Weasley answered simply, "He's a bit late, but he should be back soon, work hasn't been very busy since he returned."

Bill nodded and turned, taking Fleur's hand to lead her out of the room.

"Oh, Bill. What was your announcement?"

"We were 'oping to say it in front of the family," Fleur informed.

"Of course," Molly said, smiling warmly but half-heartedly. "You aren't moving closer, are you?" she asked hopefully, "It would be wonderful if you were closer."

"No Mum, we are _happy_ where we are," Bill assured exasperatedly, before grabbing Fleur's hand again and heading out of the room.

"I can't believe her, is she oblivious?" Ginny said, turning away from the door and slumping in a chair at the kitchen table. ""You aren't moving closer are you?"," Ginny snorted in an extremely exaggerated impression of her mother.

"Don't be so hard on her," Harry said softly. He sat opposite Ginny, the now wake baby cuddled in his arms and sucking on his little bottle.

"She's not well," Ron agreed, stroking the frame of a family photo that hung on the wall. "I wish things could go back to the way they were before."

"So do many of us," said Hermione, her eyes lingering over the baby and Harry looked up.

"There's not really much we can do," He said sadly.

The four agreed sadly, succumbing to a long silence.

* * *

"Pass the potatoes."

Dinner at the Burrow was a busy event, as always, but to Percy's delight Verity seemed joyful.

"Oi Perce? Did you finish inspecting Diagon Alley?" George asked, talking a roast potato before offering Verity one.

"Yeah," Percy smiled, "And about time too, I've been inspecting for ages now."

"Kingsley will be happy," George grinned. "You're such a good boy."

Percy glared back angrily.

"Hey, when do you think they'll be announcing the announcement?" Verity changed the subject awfully quickly and Percy sent her a thankful look.

George groaned. "They're going to wait as long as they can." The three of them glanced across the table where Bill sat looking anxious.

Verity nodded. "You're probably right."

"I'm always right Vee, you should know that by now."

Percy rolled his eyes. "Five Galleons says it's a boy," Percy told George.

It was highly unusual for Percy to bet and so George took the opportunity. "You're on," He shook his brother's hand thoroughly. "First Weasley grandchild is so obviously going to be a girl, and remember Percival Ignatius Weasley, I'm always right."

"_No_," Percy insisted, shaking his head, "I have a _feeling_ it's going to be a boy."

"What? Did you see it in your crystal ball?" George teased, pointedly.

Verity snorted. "I think you're both wrong."

"You think it's going to be some mutant man-woman thing?" George asked sarcastically.

"_No_, I think Percy's wrong, 'cause it's definitely a girl, and I think you're just an idiot."

George looked shocked. "What happened to the little girl who was calling me "Mr Weasley" yesterday?"

"You're a bad influence," Percy informed, taking a slice of mince pie.

George ignored him. "You know I can fire you."

Verity opened her mouth to rebut, but a loud throat-clearing interrupted her.

Bill stood and cleared his throat once more. Everyone turned to him.

"I know things have been hard for us all lately," He said clearly, no one interrupted. "But I think we've pulled through, and of course we've had help from people who are basically the family anyway." At that point he addressed Harry and Hermione personally. "But it's time we moved on, and Fleur and I already have."

George turned to Verity and muttered "here we go."

"We're going to have a baby," Bill continued, confidently.

"Well, _nah_," Ron said a bit too loudly.

Verity didn't want to interrupt on the family celebrations for very long, everyone was happy and it was something that pleased her greatly. She congratulated Bill and Fleur, shaking their hands thoroughly, before turning to George.

"I'm going to go, Boss," she told his cheerfully. "Congratulations, you're gonna be an uncle."

George shrugged and downed the shot of mead he had been handed. "See you tomorrow," he said and she groaned.

"Are you leaving?" Percy said reappearing.

"Oh, yeah," Verity said, "It was really nice tonight, thanks for inviting me."

"No problem," He told her, "I'll take you home."

"No, that's okay," she assured. "My parents live down the road a bit, I can walk."

"Then I'll walk you home." George raised his eyebrow at his brother but kept silent.

"Okay, I guess," she finally agreed, and Percy led her to the door.

It was a cool night, the moisture free air swished around their ankles and they headed along the dirt path and out of the Burrow. Percy kept close and silent for most of the way.

"George still has problems," Verity told him, five minutes into the walk.

Percy looked up, interested.

"He has good days and bad days," she went on, but she assured "mostly good days."

"He doesn't sleep well, though." And Percy nodded.

"I can tell," he added. "He looks… tired."

"He's getting better, I can tell. But you never really know if you can mention Fred." She noticed Percy seemed to flinch.

"Sorry," Percy told her. "It's just hard. I guess I'm okay, he forgave me before he – he –"

Verity placed a hand on his arm and he went on. "I just – I feel guilty. I was there and for that one split second so was he. Now he's gone." One single tear slid down Percy's cheek as they stopped at the front of the house.

"Well this is me," she muttered, glancing up at the little house. "Do you want to come in?"

"No, I better get home," He brushed the tear that now lingered on his chin away and straitened up.

"See you then."

Percy didn't know what it was that made him do it. He seemed to have a new dangerous, risking and fun side to his personality that he was pretty sure was not there before, and when he stood in front of Verity's soft brown eyes the personality seemed to pump harder and harder at his brain, at his nervous system. Before he knew it he was moving closer and closer to her.

He didn't know what made him do it. He didn't regret it.

* * *

**Anyway… There you go, I told you the end was a bit messy, next chapter will be slightly better (hopefully) and trust me, I will start writing immediately (after I've finished my homework of course)...**

**I hope you enjoyed, I did hope to have it up on the 1st of March (for Ronny-kins' Birthday!) except I was busy all week end… I saw August Rush, it is amazing! Please review, I don't mind constructive criticism, but please be slightly nice about the lateness :P**

**-Bellz**


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